


Correspondence

by missfortunesirprize



Series: An Age Old Story [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:52:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missfortunesirprize/pseuds/missfortunesirprize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Letters from Bucky and Howard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own only the idea.

Dear Howard, 

I don't know how to start this letter. It's cold here. So cold it goes deep into your bones. The nights are dark and long, and I can never sleep without wondering if it's the last time I'll ever get to. There is one thing I can think of to bring me warmth. And that is to think of you. Keep a bottle for when I come back. I want to says million things but I don't have enough time or paper. I'm writing this in my bunk, by lamplight, turned down low so we don't attract attention. The picture of you is in my pocket, above the heart, where you are. Cap estimates we should be home by the time this reaches you. We intercept the train tomorrow, early in the morning. I won't lie, I'm scared, this will be huge if we can do it, but the risk that something happens to one of us is huge too. I promise I'll be there to see you when we land. I have to sleep now, I need to be awake in a few hours. I miss you. I love you. 

James

***

Dear Mr. Stark, 

It's our deepest condolences to inform you that James Barnes has been declared killed in action. 

Col. Chester Philips. 

***

Dear James, 

Every morning I wake up and I look over at the left side of my bed and the absence of you reminds me that you're never coming home. The house is quiet and empty, like everything inside is mourning you just as I am. I wish you had never gone on that stupid mission, but I also know that there was no chance of me stopping you. The thing that hurts the most is that I have nothing of you to bury. Do you still keep my picture in your pocket? Of course you don't, you aren't alive. It's cold here without you, James. So cold it seeps into my bones. You promised me. You promised me that you would come back to me. Please, just keep your promise. Come back to me. 

Howard

***

He sank down into the snow, holding the picture in his left fist, the metal crumpling the edges of the delicate paper and closed his fist gently around it, hanging his head and blinking away the tears running hot down his face. "It's so cold here."


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't look after himself, watch out for him for me.

Dear Howard, 

Things are rougher here than they ever prepared us for, but I think we're managing. We've set up camp for the night, no light because it might attract attention, so I'm writing this by the light of the moon and listening to the guys joking around by the trees. Most of them seem to be holding up, although Gabe has his bad days and retreats into himself a little too much. Johnson, good guy that he is, has taken it upon himself to look after him. I miss you, like I've never missed anything before. If it wasn't for the picture, I think I might've forgotten what you looked like. I keep it with me whenever I can, tucked between the layers of the uniform so you can be with me even when you're not. I've seen a lot of bad things, Howard, just yesterday I had to hold the youngest of us down so the guys could fix up his leg, we were ambushed by lone soldiers. I can still feel the blood on my hands no matter what I do, and the sound of his screams replay through my head every time I close my eyes. What are you doing right now? When I think of you, something I'm always doing, I think of you with grease stains on your hands while you take apart all the appliances in the house and see how they work. There's a streak of it across your nose but no one has told you that it's there because that'd ruin the fun. I miss the way you smell, I miss waking up beside you and rolling over until the cold disappears and it's just us. I miss the fights, even. I'd argue you with for eternity if it meant never having to lose another friend, I think I've lost enough. Have you heard anything from Steve? Promise me that you'll look after him for me, Howard, he doesn't take good enough care of himself and I don't want to come home and find out he's gotten himself killed. Home. I can hear the guys laughing at me now, curled over to catch the last of the light before it disappears completely behind the clouds, so I better get some sleep. 

Sending love from my heart to yours, 

Bucky.


	3. Workshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come back in one piece.

Barnes,

The workshop is too quiet without you sneaking in after training's done and messing with all my stuff, although it's better now that I know that everything will be where I left it. You never could leave anything alone. Carter says to tell you that you shouldn't be distracting me from working on the machines, but I'd be more distracted with thoughts of what's happening to you if you didn't send back. If I'm not working on them, I'm usually sitting inside the office, because if anything happens I want to be the first to know. Sometimes I think I don't want to know. I'd rather remember you as you were when you left, not leaning against the wall listening to the radio reading out reports of the deaths and seeing your face on every body inside my head. It's worse than torture. Maybe that's the whole point. I don't sleep in the bed anymore, it seems empty when I'm the only one there, and the forced routines have replaced anything left from the sheets with the chemical smell that burns the inside of my nose. I'm looking out for Steve, just like I said I would. He's so much smaller than everyone else here, like you said, but he makes up for it with the curiosity. Most nights, when my head gets too quiet, I pull him away from the quarters and sit him down in your chair and explain it all to him. You've got a good friend, here. I'm also keeping him out of trouble as much as I can, which really isn't much. I had to listen to a half an hour rant from one of the commanders yesterday about his complete lack of discipline. I stopped listening at the five minute point, but it involved a flag and climbing. Carter, I don't think you met her, seems to like him more than she'll ever admit to. Trust me when I say that she's the only woman I've ever been scared of, so I hope he's as strong as you described. Anything less and I think she'd actually end up killing him. It's getting late, past midnight now. Everyone's staying later, getting everything ready for the procedure tomorrow, but I'm not so sure anymore. Not unsure of my calculations, never that. But it's going to be painful, worse than anyone's ever felt, and I don't envy the person who has to go through that. There's no point of a test run, either, so we only get one chance and there's no guarantee that it'll even work. I don't know if I've already said it, and if I have I'll say it again, but I miss you. Come back in one piece, alright? Having everything in it's place has gotten boring. I love you. 

Howard.


	4. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I need to ask you a favor.

Dear Howard,

I'm so exhausted. We've been away from base camp for weeks and I miss seeing you. I never did get to finish that drink. Save it for me? It's hard to sleep at night, surrounded by so many people when I've become used to sharing with one, but I look up at the sky at night and I think about what you might be doing. I hope that you're looking after yourself. Tell Carter that I send my regards, and let her know that I said she'll have to make the first move. Lord knows Stevie wouldn't ever. The stars are brighter here, more noticeable in a way that they weren't back home. It's almost scary, thinking of how small we really are. Most mornings, we're awake before the sun comes up and other times I don't have time to think about how much more I'd rather be sitting in the workshop with you, because we're being shot at. They don't really prepare you for the realities, I don't think. I see the enemy soldiers, other men and boys that barely look old enough to fire a gun, and sometimes I wonder if what we're doing is right. I've seen boys fall dead to the ground, men who lose limbs and die slowly, and I hate it. You never really forget the smell of it, or the sound, the explosions and the screams. I feel like giving up sometimes, laying down my arms and surrendering myself to the enemy because of the things that I've seen and done, but then I think of you. I think of you waiting inside your tent every night, sitting on the edge of the bed like you do, with your elbows on your knees. You look up at me like you can see me, except your just a scene inside my head, and you tell me that I have to fight it and come back home to you. And I will. Come back, that is. Even if I have to walk across the earth, I'm going to make it back just to see you smile at me again, that smile you always save for me. When all this is over, when we get to go home, I want you to come with me. Introduce you to all my friends and keep you all to myself in my bedroom. The bed's a little small, but I think we can manage to think of a way to fix that. The dreams are the worst, taunting me with the things I'm deprived of while I'm here and torturing me with the phantom feeling of your body pressed between me and the wall. You know, like the night before I left. I still remember the sounds you made, I don't think I could ever forget them. You said that you met a friend, the nurse? Her name was Maria, you said. She sounds like a good woman, and she has my approval if she is how you say she is. Someone has to tell you when you're being reckless if I'm not there to tell you myself. I want to be, more than you know. I think I'd sell my soul for a hot shower, a cooked meal, and the warmth of your skin pressed against mine. How's Stevie going with the training? He doesn't always pay attention to his limits, so don't let something happen to him, kid always needs someone to watch out for him. Tell me more about these machines you're working on, listening to you explain all your projects makes me smile no matter how far away you are. You get this manic look in your eyes and you gesture too wildly, it's like you're an excited kid. I like it. Listen, I need to ask you a favor, alright? If, for whatever reason, I don't make it back, I want you to be the one to go and see Rebecca for me. Don't let her read about it in a letter, I want her to hear it from someone who cares about me just as much as she did. Normally I'd ask Steve, but I want you to meet my family, even if I'm not there to see it. Can you do that for me? I'm going to make it back, but just on the chance I don't. 

Missing you more every day,

Bucky.


End file.
